


Snowed In - A Welcome To Hell Fanfiction

by ectoEgbert



Category: Welcome to Hell - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Christmas Fluff, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, High School, Humor, M/M, Sleepy Cuddles, Snow, Snowed In, Sweaters, Ugly Holiday Sweaters, Ugly Sweaters, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-06-16 14:10:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15438789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ectoEgbert/pseuds/ectoEgbert
Summary: It was a day that each and every student under the sun longed for from the start of every new school year; a snow day. It was a rite of passage that was not lost on the duo of Jonathan Combs and Sock Sowachowski, and the celebration of the news ticker listing the boy's county is nothing short of the best ugly sweater contest this side of hell.





	Snowed In - A Welcome To Hell Fanfiction

**Author's Note:**

> hey guys !! this is a little cute one-off for the welcome to hell big bang! i love this fandom more than my socks, and the amount of talent between all of you guys is mindblowing!
> 
> so take some cuddly sweater kids on a cold day !! ❤
> 
> as always, you can follow me on tumblr for fresh updates and cute art !! https://clawsitivity.tumblr.com
> 
> feedback is always appreciated !! i love all of you!

    A familiar winter scene played outside a familiar bedroom window, fogged by an exultant face, pressed firmly against the cold, stinging glass. A veritable blizzard had broken just hours before, transforming Jonathan Comb's and Sock Sowachowski's suburban hell into their very own winter wonderland. The extraordinarily heavy snow was only just beginning to slow, allowing the rising moon to reflect off the pristine, white surface of the snow blanket. For as far as Sock's wide, glistening eyes (and Jonathan's perpetually half-lidded eyes) could see, their neighborhood was, at least for now, lost to the whim of mother nature.   
    However, the pair of pariahs couldn't be more excited; with extreme winter wather came the inevitability of a snow day, and a 24 hour reprieve from the torture that was public education. Neither Jonathan nor Sock were fond of high school in any conceivable way whatsoever, and it reflected in every aspect of their lives. The duo just didn't fit into any niche, unable to truly connect with anyone around them. However, what the two boys lost in meshing with their peers, they found from day one in each other. They could always take solace in one another, from something as light as playing video games, to late-night shaky phone calls, when nothing felt certain but the voice on the other end of the phone; they were inseparable.  
    This was exactly how the pair ended up under nearly a foot of snow together. It was a rare day that Sock didn't end up at Jonathan's house, and this frigid, winter pass was no different. Though Sock and Jonathan weren't, by any means, strangers to the weather that came with the frosty season, the pair never found it any less pretty. Sock was more than keen to express his elation, his wide, green eyes glued to the snowfall just beyond the window, a veritable ear-to-ear smile plastered to his face as he took in every detail of the winter wonderland. Jonathan felt just the same, but no one would have guessed by the way he chose to sit propped against his twin-sized bed, multiple feet from the window, with nothing more than an amused expression on his face.   
  
    "You know, the least you could do is  _act_ excited," piped Sock, his gaze not budging in the slightest.   
  
    Jonathan scoffed, narrowing his eyes just before rolling them.  
  
    "Oh, I'm sorry. Would you like me to do cartwheels and somersaults for you?" he said with a low chuckle.  
  
    "Can you?!" the brown-haired boy exclaimed, whipping his head around to offer the same wide-eyed expression of excitement to his blond friend.  
  
    If Jonathan could have narrowed his eyes any more, he absolutely would have, the blond tilting his head at his enlivened counterpart.  
  
   "Dude, if I could, you'd probably know by now," he said, his words coming through a laugh.  
  
    A sigh escapes Sock as he seemingly deflates, his head dropping and his shoulders growing lax.  
  
    "Gosh, Jonathan, why can't you be more cool?" said Sock, his voice coming in faux-depressive tone.  
  
    Jonathan scoffs, the boy sticking his nose up at the veritable demon, crossing his arms.  
  
    "Oh, please; like you'd know the first thing about cool. Besides, it's just another snow day."  
  
    Sock let out a loud scoff, his hand flying up to his vest-clad chest to express how truly offended he was. His eyes grew wide with bewilderment; how could someone dare question his unbridled level of cool! Any person could take one look at his signature outfit and see that it was the pinnacle of fashion.  
  
    "Oh yeah? And you think you're any cooler?"  
  
    Jonathan opened his mouth to speak, but Sock promptly cut the borderline-apathetic boy off; he already knew the answer. His voice came full and confident, the brown-haired boy's hands doing as much talking as his mouth, and his expression reflecting determination.  
  
    "Then prove it, Jonathan Combs! Because today isn't  _just_ another snow day..."  
  
    Sock let out a low giggle before pointing dramatically at his blond friend, Jonathan's expression nothing short of bemused.  
  
    "We're going to have the ultimate Christmas sweater contest to prove who's  _really_ cooler, once and for all!" announced Sock, the still-sitting boy placing his hands on his hips as he nodded once solemnly, looking mysteriously triumphant.   
  
    Jonathan looked absolutely bewildered for multiple seconds before the hilarity of the situation overtook him, the blond throwing his head back and letting out a long, quiet laugh that could only come from someone like Jonathan. Sock's triumphant expression turned indignant the moment the laugh escaped Jonathan, his arms crossing and his eyes narrowing into an expression of annoyance.  
  
    "And just what are  _you_ laughing at?" Sock said, his voice reflecting his annoyance.  
  
    " _You_ , you dork!" Jonathan's words came through a now-subsiding laugh, the brown-haired boy wiping non-existent tears from his eyes as he let out a sigh, an amused grin across his usually stoic face.  
  
    "Besides, there is no way you'd catch me in a Christmas sweater," said Jonathan, his expression growing a bit more serious as his eyes returned to their perpetually-half-lidded state.  
  
    Sock's expression turned smug in an instant, his arms flying from his hips to cross his chest yet again, green eyes lowering to match the grin now brazen on his face.  
  
    "And why's that, hot-stuff?" Sock's voice was teasing, his tone absolutely oozing smugness; he was the undisputed sweater champion, seasons and holidays aside. It took someone as gloriously cute as him to pull of any sweater anytime, and he had the utmost confidence that a lowly hoodie wearer like Jonathan couldn't hope to match up to his skills.   
  
    Jonathan blinked.  
  
    "Uh, because they're super dorky. Besides, I don't even own-"  
  
    Jonathan couldn't have hoped to finish his sentence. Sock was waiting for Jonathan's inevitable excuse of not owning a single Christmas sweater, and he had come prepared. In an instant, he dove from where he sat to fall face first just in front of his backpack, his iconic hat not quite making it and exposing brown hair that was beyond unkempt. Only moving his arms, Sock plunged his hands deep into his ludicrously messy school bag, digging past failed tests and write-ups to locate the plastic bag he had placed in his backpack just that morning. Without saying a word, or lifting his face from the itchy carpet of Jonathan's floor, his hand raised to expose his secret weapon. To Jonathan's immediate horror, inside the horribly stretched Walmart bag were none other than the two biggest, ugliest Christmas sweaters that their local Goodwill had to offer, Jonathan able to detect the signature thrift store smell from where he sat multiple feet away.  
    This whole scenario was  _just_ like Sock, and Jonathan silently cursed himself for not having seen this coming light-years away. He let a sigh escape him as he looked down at the placid form of Sock, rubbing the bridge of his nose and narrowing those cold, cold eyes.  
  
    "I would love to say I can't believe you, but I absolutely can. Just what makes you think I'm going to put your sweater on? A-and how is it a contest if you picked it for me!" Jonathan's words came hurriedly, the blond clearly shaken by this challenge; was his level of cool really being put into question to this degree?  
  
    Silently and solemnly, Sock raised himself from where he lay, a lithe arm propping himself up just enough to crane his neck and lock narrowed eyes with narrowed eyes. Sock meant business, and the coldness in his lowered voice conveyed it perfectly.  
  
    "It isn't the sweater that makes the winner, Jonathan; it's how you wear it."  
  
    Jonathan could only blink; he simply had no retort. How could one possibly hope to come back from that? The answer was that one absolutely couldn't, and Jonathan admitted it with a sigh and the lowering of his head. He stayed like this for a near full minute, debating if he was really about to put on an ugly Christmas sweater to defend his title as the coolest of the two black sheep. The truth was that he would do next to anything for Sock, and that no amount of doting or a facade of pride could change that.  
    Sock had given Jonathan an outlook on life the likes of which the blond couldn't have previously fathomed to any degree. His entire life was spent holed up in his room, playing faux-evocative tunes on his acoustic guitar, and viewing the world around him through a grayscale lens. For his entire life leading up to high school, no one around him had tried to change that. It wasn't until he came to high school and met a certain chaotic twink that he'd begin to see the world as anything other than oppressive, Sock's openness and excitability igniting something magnificent inside Jonathan for the first time in his entire life. Though he would never let it show through his stoic, cool-kid facade, he appreciated Sock to an indescribable degree. In turn, the least he could do was put on a horrendous holiday sweater for him; it was clear that Sock was incredibly excited, and Jonathan absolutely  _had_ to defend his status as the coolest of the duo, right?  
    Jonathan lifted his head and let out a long, defeated sigh as he did so. As he began to speak in a low tone, he closed his eyes and raised his hand to gently rest it upon his cheek.  
  
    "I guess I have no choice but to-"  
  
    For the second time that evening, Jonathan was unable to finish his sentence. In one fluid motion, Sock ripped one of the oversize sweaters from the bag at and lobbed it at the blond with all the force his scrawny arm could muster, the hunk of wool smashing into Jonathan's head with a dull 'thud.' The fabric mass slowly slid its way down Jonathan's face, bearing an unchanged expression, before dropping into his lap. After a few seconds, the blond slowly forced his eyes open to see a beaming Sock, his smile ear-to-ear and the boy bouncing softly from pure excitement.  
  
    "Go! Put it on! Right now!" said Sock, his voice reflecting his excitement as he spoke between bounces, the brown-haired boy clutching his own sweater in a white-knuckle grip while the other hand wildly pointed in the direction of Jonathan's bathroom. It was clear from his excitement that Sock couldn't wait to see Jonathan in the sweater, and in turn show him up by absolutely rocking his own.  
  
    Jonathan rolled his eyes as he tilted his head back and groaned, letting his hands drop to sit atop the sweater before looking back at Sock through now-narrowed eyes.  
  
    "You owe me, dude. Big time." said Jonathan, his voice low and dripping with something bordering genuine vexation. Though he really did care about Sock and his happiness, he questioned if putting on an ugly Christmas sweater was pushing it too far. Jonathan stuck almost exclusively to gray zip-up hoodies. As a matter of fact, he couldn't remember the last time he'd worn anything else. He had one on in that moment, for that matter! Despite his every inhibition, Jonathan pulled himself to his feet and began to slowly drag his feet to the bathroom, per Sock's request; the brown-haired boy wanted his first time seeing his blond counterpart wearing the sweater to be as genuine of a surprise as possible. The moment the bathroom door clicked closed, Sock tore his quintessential vest off, replacing it with his own atrocity of a Christmas sweater, the boy's arms extending high in the air to allow the article to slide easily onto his slender torso. Finally, he made his way to his feet, the brown-haired boy finding it increasingly harder to stand still as excitement continued to build within him; he was about to see the notoriously stoic Jonathan Combs in not just a sweater, but the ugliest of ugly Christmas sweaters.  
    The thought warmed Sock to his very core, making him almost want to squeal with how enthralled he truly was. Sock couldn't begin to express how much he loved when he could break through Jonathan's stoic facade, even if it was just in the slightest. The whole reason they had grown so close was because he was able to see right through it, and discover what kind of person the blond was behind the front his surroundings forced him to put on. What the world might see as a disrespectful, apathetic teenager, Sock saw as a talented, caring friend to whom he owed the world to. He had spent so much of his life as an outcast, mocked and shamed for his situation, and his interests to an infinitely more extreme degree. Jonathan was the first person to listen to him, and give him respect of any kind. To say he loved his company was an understatement, and times like these were among ones that made him feel unbridled warmth deep within.   
    After what felt like hours of standing and smoothing his wrinkled Christmas abomination, the brown-haired boy finally heard the subtle click of the bathroom door opening. In an instant, he hops around to face away from where Jonathan would be entering, wanting to save his own sweater for a surprise in kind.  
  
    To say Jonathan looked embarassed would be the understatement of the century.   
  
    Jonathan, his hands balled into fists at his sides and halfway hidden by the sheer size of the sweater, plodded his way slowly and silently out of the bathroom. The mass of wool did not fit the beanpole of a boy in the slightest, and hung off his shoulders loosely. He stood there, his face twinged red with embarrassment, before finally speaking up to his brown-haired counterpart. His voice was low and shaky, every syllable oozing contempt.  
  
    "Y-you didn't-"  
  
    If Jonathan expected to finish his sentence for once tonight, he had another thing coming. As soon as the blond began speaking, Sock jumped around to face the boy, his wide eyes practically sparkling and his smile somehow becoming even wider. A long and boisterous "ta-da" escaped Sock's rosy lips as the pair finally got a solid view of each other's Christmas sweater abominations.   
    Sock's sweater [could not have been more fitting](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/459044037853446154/472299240866185216/krampus_1024x1024.png) for someone as chaotic as him, the oversize red and black article bearing a genuine demon, brazen atop the usual intricate patterns that came with Christmas attire. However, it was simply no match for Jonathan's attire. It was the likes of which [no Christmas sweater could ever hope to beat](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/459044037853446154/472299972893736960/crying-mj-meme-Christmas-sweater-1.png), no matter how hard they tried, the familiar face of Michael Jordan crying in a festive hat just too much for any situation, let alone an ugly Christmas sweater contest. In the instant his eyes fell upon Jonathan wearing the sweater, Sock's elated expression turned shocked and stunned almost instantaneously. The brown-haired boy's gaze locked with Jonathan's own narrowed eyes for what felt like an eternity, his green eyes flicking from Jonathan's face to the patterned Michael Jordan stitch as he did his best to drink in what he had just done. From his adorably embarrassed expression, to the way the sweater rested carefully on one shoulder, and not even mentioning how well the design complimented him, Sock knew Jonathan had beaten him, if not stomped him into the dirt. As he knew exactly what the sweater had looked like previously, the entirety of his shock and horror came from how perfectly he pulled off the atrocity.  
    Jonathan felt just the same, if not more so, despite what his body language conveyed. He couldn't have fathomed in his wildest dreams how absolutely adorable Sock would look swimming in a sweater. The way it hung well past the middle of his things, the way it covered his hands entirely, and the way it struggled to even stay on his shoulders; it was far too much. However, he had to show the brown-haired boy that he meant business, doing his best to keep the fuming expression on his face consistent.  
    After multiple more seconds, the hilarity of the situation finally broke Sock. A giggle bubbled up from deep within his stomach as his expression started to change, the shocked expression slowly morphing into a warped smile. He did his best to keep the giggle from growing into a laugh, but there was no point. His hands found their way to his sweater-clad belly as he bent over ever so slightly, the laugh threatening to grow into a guffaw; he truly and genuinely could not have asked for this to have gone better. Jonathan was just as poor of a sport about the entire situation as Sock expected him to be, and it only made him that much cuter.   
    Jonathan's powerful combination of embarrassment brought upon by the crime of Christmas he was forced to wear and his unwavering stoic facade proved to be no match to seeing his closest friend in this state. A few measly seconds of looking irate was all the blond could manage before he too felt a giggle bubble up into his throat, his expression starting to warp in kind. It wasn't long at all before the pair were doubled over and laughing in unison, occasionally glancing back up at each other's sweaters, only to send the pair into another laughing fit. Before too long, the twosome found themselves hitting the ground, splayed on their backs, and sides pressed against each other as they continued to guffaw. The energy of the room was indescribable; the frigid, winter's night, holed up in a warm bedroom, with each other's closest friend in the entire world, plus the ugly sweaters, made everything feel so...soft. It was as if, in that moment, that all that existed in the word was the two boys and their Christmas sweaters; that for that night, the world beyond the foggy bedroom window was nothing more than an illusion.   
    As the laughing began to subside, Jonathan liked to think it truly was. He pondered just how lucky he got to end up in this situation, to have his embarrassment melted away by a simple laugh. He couldn't think of another soul he would do this for, and that made his core all the more warm.  
    When the guffawing finally silenced, Sock could only feel the same. He couldn't have began to so much as hope for someone like Jonathan to enter his life, and yet, there they lay, the itchy carpet unable to irritate them through the thick wool of the sweaters. He felt strangely warm, pressed so gently against Jonathan like this. It was is if incredible amounts of heat were being shared with the smallest of touches, swirling deep within Sock's belly as he stared at the ceiling, the familiar beaming smile brazen on his face, along with an almost imperceptible blush.   
  
    "I guess I have to admit defeat; you absolutely floored me!" said Sock, his gaze on the ceiling unwavering, his voice soft and smooth.  
  
    Jonathan scoffed, his gaze on the popcorn ceiling remaining in kind, his own voice coming to match his counterpart's.  
  
    "Please, dude; I'm no match for the sweater master," said Jonathan with a laugh, his head shaking ever so slightly.  
  
    "That's you now though! You've dethroned me! How does it feel?" chirped Sock, nudging Jonathan as he glanced at him.  
  
    Jonathan sighed, a smirk crossing his face.  
  
    "I'm not convinced. We may have to compare sweaters again, just to make sure I'm really up to snuff."  
  
    The boys giggled softly, almost in unison, before falling silently for multiple seconds. It was finally Sock to speak up first, his voice coming even quieter than before.  
  
    "Hey, Jonathan?"  
  
    "Yeah?"  
  
    "Thanks."  
  
    Jonathan scoffed yet again.  
  
    "For what, dork?"  
  
    "For this; everything about this, I mean. Your room, your house, putting on that sweater for me."  
  
    The brown-haired boy shrugged, letting out a soft sigh.  
  
    "Y'know...you."  
  
    Jonathan's belly was awash with butterflies in a matter of milliseconds, Sock's genuine words and gentle tone igniting something deep within the stoic boy. It was undeniable that he felt incredibly close to Sock, but why did his words make his stomach flutter like that? More importantly, why was the feeling not fading. He cleared his throat almost involuntarily, thankful that Sock was staring at the ceiling and not the blush that was rapidly spreading across his face.  
  
    "Aw, come on, dude! It's almost as if we're friends or something."  
  
    Sock smiled at the blond's words, his own belly growing exponentially warmer in kind. He wasn't sure exactly why he felt so warm in that moment, but he knew he absolutely loved it; and that he absolutely wanted more of it. In an instant, the energy of the entire evening seemed to overtake the usually jumpy and boisterous extrovert. Every emotion from the evening poured into his movements as he slowly rolled onto his side, and, in one fluid motion, moved his arms to wrap silently and snugly around the blond's chest. His head moved to rest snugly in the crook of Jonathan's neck, his eyes squeezed shut and a long, contended sigh escaping him. Unbridled, indescribable warmth pierced Sock to his very core; it wasn't, by any means, the kind of warmth that could be achieved with a fireplace, or even the summer sun; it was Jonathan's warmth. The overpowering smell of Jonathan filled Sock's nose, almost intoxicating him when it combined with the blond's heat. The brown-haired boy had never felt more at peace than in that moment. The gentle whirring of Jonathan's space heater seemed to dull in his ears as he seemed to melt into the blond boy before him.   
    In turn, Jonathan's stomach threatened to burst from the butterflies that swarmed within him, not to mention the vigorous pounding of his heart, which threatened to jump right out of his chest in kind. The blond could do nothing but freeze, his arms at his sides and his eyes wider than dinner plates. The feeling of being hugged like this was so foreign to Jonathan, it almost made him dizzy. He would never admit it to anyone, but it was rarely, if ever, that someone held him like this, and it shook him to his very core. However, one consistent feeling seemed to overwhelm every inhibition that stormed his head; a mighty sense of peace. The combination of Sock's sweet smell, his gentle grip, and his breath against Jonathan's neck made his arms move almost instinctively. In a tidal wave of elation, Jonathan's arms wrapped softly around Sock's lower back, pulling him the rest of the way into the embrace.  
     It felt as if every little aspect of Sock and Jonathan's friendship had led to this moment, as if the culmination of every part of the boy's happenstance meeting led them here, on Jonathan's floor, snowed in and holding one another. From their very first day as friends, their whole relationship had been about escaping a world they didn't feel welcome in. Every single bleary-eyed all-nighter spent staring at the stars, and skipped classes spent in unused classrooms, was about creating a place the pair could call their own; that if those around them didn't need the two, they didn't need them either. What they found in one another was greater than anything their despots could have hoped to find, and this night spent snowed in together was nothing short of the start of a perpetual pinnacle.   
    The pair remained wrapped together for what they wanted to believe was an eternity, the only sound coming from the all-too-familiar whirr of Jonathan's dilapidated space heater. It was Sock to break the extended silence, his mouth the only part of his body to move, speaking directly into Jonathan's neck.  
  
    "Hey, Jonathan?"   
  
    Sock's voice came just above a whisper, his voice cracking as he tried to force his volume lower.  
  
    "Yeah?"  
  
    Jonathan actually did whisper, the boy's head not moving an inch as not to disturb Sock.  
  
    "Can we keep doing this?  
  
    Jonathan let out a tiny chuckle.  
  
    "Keep doing what, dork?  
  
    "This. Exactly this."  
  
    Jonathan let out the softest, most subtle sigh, unable to keep a grin from creeping onto his face.  
  
    "I'd really like that."  
  
    Sock was silent for an extended period of time. The sound of the crappy space heater filled the room again for what felt like eons, until Sock began to whisper.  
  
    "Hey, Jonathan?"  
  
    "Yeah?"  
  
    "Can we...sleep like this?"  
  
    Jonathan would never say it out loud, but he couldn't have begun to fathom moving an inch that night. He decided to play it cool, as Jonathan normally did. He let out another soft, contented sigh, his nearly imperceptible grin growing slightly wider.  
  
    "Of course we can, dork. Let me just..."  
  
    As his sentence trailed off, Jonathan moved his arm ever so slightly to grab a corner of the comforter that sat atop his unmade bed, the black blanket having not rested on an orderly bed in as long as the blond could remember. With a mighty tug and a small, adorable grunt, Jonathan pulled the mass of fabric onto the pair of pariah's, the mass seeming to naturally fall in a perfect position upon the still-cuddling kids. For the first time since their embrace began, Sock budged the slightest of an inch, his back arching ever so slightly as he took in a deep breath through his nose; he was encased in Jonathan's scent to the degree of nearly sending a shudder down his spine. It brought him comfort beyond any form of description, and he swore he could drown in it.   
    In the instant the comforter sat snugly atop the pair, Jonathan returned to the now-familiar position of holding his arms around Sock's lower back. It wasn't long at all before the overwhelming warmth, peaceful energy, and gentle whirring began to lull the already-drowsy duo, the twosome letting out almost unison yawns.  
    But Jonathan wasn't quite ready succumb to the warm grip of slumber; there was something he had left unsaid. To say it was left unsaid tonight alone would be foolish; this was something the blond had been wanting to express to Sock for veritable ages, and he knew that if he didn't voice it tonight, he'd more than likely never be able to. But as he drew in a breath to speak his piece, his voice caught in his throat, an icy wave of anxiousness crashing into the beanpole blond; what if Sock didn't know where he was coming from and instead got offended? He knew within his heart of hearts that there was simply no way; that wasn't the kind of person Sock was! And yet, as he went to speak again, the persistent fear clamped his throat shut yet again. Jonathan was locked in a battle within his own body, pleading with his mind to let him say what he'd always wanted to say to the closest friend he had under the stars. The internal conflict threatened to reach a fever pitch, Jonathan nearly shaking with frustration as he balled his hands into white-knuckle fists. Finally and forcefully, Jonathan managed to begin choking out what he desperately needed to express to Sock.  
  
    "S-sock, I-"  
  
    But if Jonathan thought he would be able to finish a sentence that night, he was dead wrong.   
  
    Before the blond could hope to continue stammering through his piece, Sock looked up for the first time during their embrace, piercing green eyes meeting Jonathan's strained gaze. He bore the slightest hint of a mischievous grin, and his voice came barely above a whisper; the perfect volume for what he needed to say.  
  
    "It's okay, Jonathan; I love you too."  
  
    In that moment, Jonathan felt the weight of the universe leave his shoulders, the boy becoming instantaneously breathless at Sock's words. An indescribable, incomparable warmth traveled up the blond's spine, the very air around them threatening to crackle with the energy they were creating. No other person had ever come close to making Jonathan feel like this, and it was evident in every part of his being in that instant.   
  
    But instead of trying to understand it, Jonathan decided to savor the feeling to every degree he could.  
  
    Knowing no response was necessary, Jonathan simply pulled Sock closer to him, closing his eyes and taking one last deep breath before he decided to let sleep pull him under. Though he knew the morning would come, and with it, a break in the magic that the pair had created that night, he chose to focus solely on the rhythm of Sock's breathing, the way he continued to nestle into the crook of Jonathan's neck, and the warmth they continued to create between them. In a final fit of wakefulness, he pondered just how thankful he was to have gone through hell to get to fall asleep next to heaven.  
  
  
  
      
  
    
  
  
  
      
  
     
  
 


End file.
